Across the Universe
by Spirited Heart
Summary: When Fang and Max share a hotel room, the two become close and feelings start to mount. But when Fang says he loves her at the wrong time, all that they've worked so hard to achieve might unravel before their eyes... prequel to 'Adrenaline Rush'.
1. A Kiss

**A/N: I'm so sorry that I haven't updated stalker!! I just thought I'd try something new. It's very Fax…I think you'll like it. The Flock is in Berlin for a meeting with world leaders. After the fourth book. Blah blah blah…it's not a one shot. So yey. Please read and review to tell me if you like it or not! Oh, and it could be the prequel to Adrenaline Rush. **

_Words are flying out like  
endless rain into a paper cup  
They slither while they pass  
They slip away across the universe  
Pools of sorrow waves of joy  
are drifting thorough my open mind  
Possessing and caressing me_

_Jai guru deva om  
Nothing's gonna change my world  
Nothing's gonna change my world  
Nothing's gonna change my world  
Nothing's gonna change my world_

_Images of broken light which  
dance before me like a million eyes  
That call me on and on across the universe  
Thoughts meander like a  
restless wind inside a letter box  
they tumble blindly as  
they make their way across the universe_

_Jai guru deva om  
Nothing's gonna change my world  
Nothing's gonna change my world  
Nothing's gonna change my world  
Nothing's gonna change my world_

_Sounds of laughter shades of life  
are ringing through my open ears  
exciting and inviting me  
Limitless undying love which  
shines around me like a million suns  
It calls me on and on across the universe_

_Jai guru deva om  
Nothing's gonna change my world  
Nothing's gonna change my world  
Nothing's gonna change my world  
Nothing's gonna change my world  
Jai guru deva  
Jai guru deva_

_-- Across the Universe by the Beatles_

The Flock split three hotel rooms next to each other, with Iggy and the Gasman pairing up, Nudge and Angel in the next, and Max and Fang taking the third room. Running away from the flyboys and erasers had tired Fang out, who quickly changed into sweatpants and a white undershirt and crawled into bed. The spotless, pressed covers were tucked securely around his chin, and he had drifted halfway to dreamland when Max's voice floated back to him. "Can you believe that we're here?"

The silent mutant peeked open a heavy eye to observe his friend, in full day clothes, gazing entranced out their twelfth-story window. Her enthusiasm hadn't waned since they'd stepped out of that plane—if anything, it had burgeoned, absolutely irrepressible. Outside, lights laced the towering buildings like jeweled necklaces. Far below, the streets hummed and glowed with auburn and gold ribbons of car headlights and street lamps. The scene illuminated Max gloriously. Even with her back turned to him, Fang could envision the captivated, stunned look on her face.

"Just look at that. Incredible."

"Max," Fang said, stifling a laugh. "Go to sleep." He glanced at the digital clock on the table between the two twin beds. The red numbers flashed just past three. "We have stuff to do tomorrow. Berlin isn't going anywhere."

"But look at that skyline! It's amazing, isn't it?"

Fang rolled onto his back, sighing, then crawled out from beneath the covers, bringing his knees to his chest. He smiled. "I take it I won't be getting much sleep tonight, either."

"Can you spot the GSW Headquarters from here?" Max rambled uncharacteristically, as she craned her neck and peered at as much of a slant as she could manage. "Maybe…not. Oh, well. We'll see it tomorrow. Those huge sky scrapers are around here somewhere, and over there—see, you can't miss it—the national museum, that Prussian monument, we'll have to see that tomorrow too—"

"And then if we have time, maybe we could even make it to the meeting."

"Meeting?" Max said, unable to pry herself from the window. "Who's meeting? —Hey!"

She spun around as the pillow collided with her back. Fang laughed, preparing to throw another one at her. "If I'm not going to sleep, I can at least make the pillows useful." Grinning, he repeated, "Who's meeting? Great one, Max."

The Flock leader smiled, a hint of embarrassment in the gesture. Taking another glance outside, she slowly removed the baseball cap she had been wearing. She ran her hand admirably over the brim, musing, "It's just overwhelming, being here, you know?"

"Long way from home," Fang agreed quietly.

Earlier, Max had switched off the misleadingly frigid air conditioner and, ridding the hotel room of the artificial humming, threw open the window instead. Fang listened now to the city murmurs below as stray ends of sidewalk conversation twanged between buses' whirring sighs. Even the neon lights crackled with chatty curiosity.

Max, still perched at the edge of the window, breathed in the concrete aroma. For a split second, Edge saw her again with that expression on her face, discontented and yearning for something, anything, better than what she had for the Flock.

"Will you go with me?"

Fang snapped back out of his dalliances. "What, Max?"

"Tomorrow. Will you go with me around Berlin? To visit the sights?"

"Sure." Fang nodded, confused and a bit amused by the request. "Of course I will. You know that."

As she returned his gaze out the window, Max nodded, but uncertainty lingered on her face. Fang had a strange feeling that she could no longer see beyond the glass. "Just promise me something."

"Max, what else would there be to do tomorrow? I said I'd come with you—"

"No, not that." Max rubbed her left hand's fingers together nervously, often like she did before a big fight. Fang noticed it and tried to glance up at her face, but night crowded her expression into the shadows.

"What then?"

"Promise…that you'll go with me."

Fang waited, expecting more.

"Promise."

"I did."

"No, not just in Berlin. Promise that you'll stay with me, Fang." She dropped his gaze, quickly adding, "With the Flock. We're so far from home, but we can't let that change who we are—who we all are—as a core group. I hated it when we were apart. It just felt so…empty…"

Pausing, Fang examined the pillowcase that rested on top of his knees. "We have to be willing to grow. We can't stay sluggish. I mean," he gave a small laugh, "we've really just learned how to live our lives. If we hadn't adapted, we'd still be fumbling around trying to convince each other that we all knew what we were doing."

Max stuffed her hands in her pockets, sulking. "I know we have to grow, Fang. I'm just saying…don't change what the Flock means. What we mean."

The clock clicked closer to four in the morning, which provided plenty of excuses for Max's abstract speech that seemed to come from absolutely nowhere. Fang figured half the words out of her mouth were results of jetlag. Still, if it made Max feel better…

"Max, I promise. I don't know why you're worried, though." He offered a smile, spreading his arms, trying to re-enact the joy his friend bubbled over with earlier. "Look! We're in Berlin!"

A smile flickered across Max's face, and she dropped her eyes momentarily as if to examine her shoes. Rubbing the back of her neck, she allowed softly, "Yeah. We're in Berlin."

Jetlag, Fang reasoned to himself again as he reclined back onto the bed. She just didn't like to fly on planes instead of flying by herself. It had been a long day already, with promises of more work and excitement tomorrow. They were in Germany. He sighed, closing his eyes.

"G'night, Fang."

He was hardly paying attention when Max leaned over—he'd thought he was reaching to set the clock alarm—but when his eyes pulled up Max dominated his frame of vision. Her long, blonde locks accentuated the stark blueness of her eyes, which, beneath the stratus-like line of her eyebrows, seemed to reflect a rising, lunar light. Before Fang could even voice surprise, Max neatly faded into him, placing the wispiest of kisses on his lips.

* * *

**do you guys want more?**

**'Cause there's gonna be more whether you want it or not :D**

**And maybe M rated stuff...because there just isn't enough M-rated Fax stories out there.  
**

**:(**

**anyway, please please PLEASE read and review to tell me what you think so far!!**

**thanks,**

**Habs :)**


	2. The Mistake

**A/N: GAH! Why haven't you people reviewed!? I know you've read it…you can't lie…hmmm…I'm starting to get a bit sketchy. Never mind. Here's chapter two of Across the Universe. PLEASE REVIEW! Oh, and I changed the rating to T because my friend gaara'slittlegirl wouldn't read it because it was an M story. Damn…oh well. I might change it later :D**

**Disclaimer: FAX !!**

…**The Next Day….**

"Would you care to explain what that was last night?"

Max had her mouth full of breakfast and was scribbling illegible notes onto a napkin. Every now and then, she shrugged back her hair, which was still dripping wet from the shower, so that it would not threaten to run her inked words. She didn't meet Fang's eyes and she didn't quite swallow. "What was what?"

"You know what."

Max finished the speech she had been mulling over, then hastily crossed it out again, unsatisfied. "Fang, I honestly don't know what you're talking about."

Fang quickly pulled up a seat, straddling it with his arms crossed in front of him over the back of the chair. He stared into his best friend's face, silently insisting that she return his persistent gaze. He wanted answers now, before the rest of the Flock would show up and disrupt the moment. He needed answers now, before his emotions naively convinced him that Max's behavior wielded deeper feelings of affection.

She glanced up, finishing off her toast and scattering crumbs everywhere. As she brushed them aside, he observed casually, "Fang, you all right? You look like you haven't slept in years."

"Max."

"What?"

Fang stared at her innocent expression. Her cheeks were still pink from the heat of the shower, making her scattered freckles stand out as if someone had just newly sprinkled them under her vivid eyes. For a moment, Edge faltered to find words.

"Last night," he managed. "When you…"

"When I kissed you?"

Relief washed over Fang as the words finally met the air. So he hadn't hallucinated the whole thing. So Max did consider it a kiss. He tried to shake off the fluttering in his head, but to no success. Keeping his eyes sharp, Fang picked a spot on Max's nose, forcing himself not to give anything away.

"Yes. When—when you kissed me."

"I was saying goodnight."

"But…but you never kissed me before."

"Fang." Max laughed loosely, the sound rattling around. "You've kissed me before."

"Not like that."

"Why? What was different?"

Fang's eyes flashed up into Max's. Even his mind could not suffice to form logical words. In the silence, Fang strained to hear something, anything—a squeaking of hotel maids pushing carts down the hall, a muffled voice next door, an overly exuberant television commercial leaking in from another room—anything to assure him that normalcy still existed. Because lingering on that kiss, Edge guiltily thought to himself, was hardly normal, hardly even sane, really. He suppressed the urge to touch his lips, or to touch Max's, to feel each individually and try to reason what had happened when they'd met last night. If there just was noise, he thought vainly, maybe that could drown out this ridiculousness. But it was only Max's quiet breathing and his own thoughts, swirling in and out together, into ribbons of nonsensical hope and daydream and confusion.

"I'd like to know, really, Fang," Max continued. She leaned in close, experimentally. Fang's fingers gripped the chair back in front of him, trying to steady himself.

"Max, what are you doing?"

"You've kissed me before, haven't you?"

Fang stammered, his eyes unblinking. "Y-yes. But that was different."

Max placed a hand lightly on Fang's trembling arm, observing the tendons flex and coil in panic. "Relax."

"You still haven't answered my question. Why did you kiss me?"

"You still haven't answered mine," Max retorted, grinning. Her face hovered so close now that Fang could smell the sweet-smelling soap on her skin. "Why was it different?"

When Fang failed to utter a comprehensible response, Max continued, her movements maddeningly still.

"Was it because it was on your lips, and not your cheek?"

Fang couldn't rip his gaze away from Max's eyes.

"It was such a light kiss, Fang. I hardly remember." Slowly, she moved forward. "Maybe we should try again, just to see?"

Fang's eyes widened as Max's lips met his. The same strange feeling lurched inside him, but he couldn't place it. Guilt, excitement, and fear struggled against each other to gain the upper hand on his emotions. Max had kept her eyes opened as well, and—fighting not to go cross-eyed—the two stared at each other, their mouths touching but unmoving.

Sensing Fang's quivering breath, Max pulled away from him just slightly, allowing him time to recollect himself. Fang couldn't figure out what to say, where to look, what to do with his hands. He ashamedly felt like a discarded marionette. Even with the other girls he'd been with, he had never felt this perplexed and off-guard.

Later, he reasoned that Max must have read his expression, because she then gently reached out and brushed the Fang's bangs to the side, clearing them away from his eyes.

"Fang," she murmured. Slowly, she traced a line down her friend's cheekbone to his jaw line, raising his chin so that their gazes met. She led Fang's hands to her waist, silently assuring him it was all right for him to hold on, to hold them together. Fang's fingers lingered hesitantly on the belt loops to Max's jeans, as if acclimating themselves to the warm material. His only saving grace was the back of the chair, which remained between them as a boundary, reassuring Fang that both were safe so long as they stayed on opposite sides.

Max whispered his name, and then lips met again, this time supple and compliant. Fang's hands tightened around Max's waist and he felt her tongue brush along his tingling mouth, asking for entrance. He gave it.

Fang moaned and pulled Max towards him, and she scooted up as closely as she could, their torsos separated only by the chair, with their knees bumping each other's on either side. Cupping Fang's face with one hand, Max slipped the other down to the small of his back, where she supported his friend's trembling, wiry frame. Fang felt the fabric of his shirt lifting and Max's fingers extending along his skin at the base of his spine. The sensation from even the simplest of touches clouded Fang's mind completely, exterminating all thoughts of fear. His mouth could do nothing but explore Max's, could say nothing but moan her name. Lost to feeling, he rubbed up against the chair, desperate to feel Max moving beyond the inert hardness of the furniture in front of him.

"Max, please…"

Her voice came out muffled, humming against Fang's neck where she now trailed wet kisses. "Please what?"

"I…" Fang groaned, his face flushing as the words gamboled around in his head. No, he couldn't. He couldn't ask for that. It was too much, too much from Max, and the faintest doubts started tugging him down from the sweet aching of the moment. Too much—and so much that he didn't deserve.

"Max." Max's mouth and caresses were persistent. Her hands traveled up the ridges of his back, sending Fang arching under his touch. Her voice somehow remained steady, a stark contrast to her friend's frenetic body. "Fang…please what?"

"I want…"

"Yes…?"

Fang bit his lip, his head tossed back, and gasped. "Stop. Max—Max, I said, stop!"

Ignoring his pleas, Max suddenly grasped the seat of Fang's jeans, studying how he twisted and cried out. Her mouth fell over Fang's protests, smothering them as they toppled out.

"Come on, Fang," she whispered as she tugged Fang closer, stroking his hands in a steady rhythm. "Why get off on the chair when I can do it for you?"

Edge yanked himself away, toppling the chair in the process. Both he and Max stumbled to the ground, with the Flock leader pinning him down, breathing heavily above him.

"Max, stop!"

Fang caught her smirking just before her lips again found their mark on his mouth. Fang squirmed, trying desperately to wriggle his way out, but the more he moved the less anxious he was for separation. Every kick and cry he made sent pleasurable shivers through his veins. The more he thrashed, Fang discovered, the more fervent Max's mouth and hands on his body became, and their murmurs weaved together in dulcet tones. He closed his eyes, trying to delineate feeling from reason amid the desperate wrestling, but his growing ache indicated it was a losing battle. With a final attempt, Fang wrapped his leg around Max's thin waist and pushed, forcing her onto her back while Fang rolled over top.

He was free to go now, no longer trapped on the bottom, but he dully found that he couldn't move. Sprawled below him, Max gazed up with her eyes half-closed and face flushed, gasping for breath. She moaned, raising her hips to Fang's, her head rocking back and splaying lengthy light hair across the carpeting. Feeling that Fang had frozen, Max whimpered and stopped writhing, raising her head to search out her friend's face.

Sheen droplets of sweat gathered on their skin, their breathing tattered and quick, but expressions tranquil, lost to the sensation of this novel closeness. The aggressiveness had faded from Max's face, replaced with captivated bewilderment. Her shirt, crumpled and damp around her chest, gave the impression that she just been rolling around in dewy morning grass. Fang's own body was moistened with the her kisses and shower-soaked hair. He stared wordlessly at Max for moments impossible to measure.

"Max." Fang couldn't stop staring. "I love you."

The words arranged themselves—he was just as shocked as Max to hear them hit the air. But his mind felt obligated to put words to what his eyes had captured, and though he didn't know what he had seen, he had certainly seen something as they'd tumbled there on the floor.

There had been Max lying there with him, of course, but their two figures had interchanged at moments, like slides overlapping on a projector. The blue, green-flecked eyes of the Max suddenly contorted, and Fang was gazing into his own dark eyes; and Max's unceasing mouth melted into his skin until Fang felt swathed in his affection; and their respective colors—Max's bold, brave; Fang's quiet, measured—swirled like a frenzied painting doused with crystalline water running concurrently. Blending almost. For a moment, names evaded him. He knew not what they were individually but the one they were together. Fang had to blink to make the separation.

And those words he spoke were not his choice to say. Something higher compelled him to utter them, something innate and instinctive, vulnerable and professing. Max confusedly crawled out from beneath her dark-haired friend, watching him with wary eyes. Her movements were rigid and tentative as if she were slipping out of a booby-trapped clutch. Fang felt his stomach plummet with every second a reply went unspoken.

Drawing her knees to her chest, Max stared back at Fang, keeping a safe distance of at least three feet away. Her breath came uneasily.

"Max—"

"We shouldn't have," she muttered quietly. "It was a mistake."

"Listen to me, Max. I didn't—what I meant was—"

"Nothing. It was all nothing, okay?"

Fang had to brush his numb fingers along the ground to make sure it was still there. The ceiling threatened to dissipate as well, along with the rest of his already fragile world. It was all nothing. Fang felt like she'd never be happy again.

**Max's POV**

His words swirled around my head like a tornado. Him, loved me? This was all so confusing. I slowly and cautiously crawled out from beneath him and moved about a meter away.

"Max—" he started, but I cut him off.

"We shouldn't have, It was a mistake."

"Listen to me, Max. I didn't—what I meant was—"

"Nothing. It was all nothing, okay?"

_Why did I have to say that? _I asked angrily to myself. Everything was happening so fast, too fast almost. Fang looked like a little dark puppy that had been kicked too many times. I instantly regretted my words, and was going to say something but my legs disobeyed me and I ran out of the hotel room like the devil himself was at my heels.


	3. France

**A/N: hey. Just to clear this up: Max and Fang, in the first two chapters, were in Berlin at a conference about global warming. Now it's a flash forward of two years, and they're in England for the same purpose. So I guess they're….twenty or something like that. Fang has hooked back up with Lissa and she's with them. Max and Fang are staying at a hotel.**

**Oh, and I don't know what type of currency they use in France, so I just used coins…**

**Whew! That was a long explanation. **

**Disclaimer: I. OWN. NOTHING. **

**Warnings: FAX. POSSIBLE LEMON. I'll warn you though….**

The incident left a hole in Max and Fang's relationship, one that shoved the entire Flock to the brink and dared them to either jump or return back from where they'd come. The decision to head back to basics was fairly easy—for the Flock, at least.

Max and Fang had drifted further as well; their affections were no longer as often or as obvious, and feelings of abandonment still rattled Fang's collectiveness now and then. Those times made it easier to convince himself that he'd imagined everything, to admit his faulty logic. He'd let go. And then every few months, Max came back.

* * *

Max sighed and picked up the phone, holding it to her ear as she dialed Fang's number.

"Hello?"

"There's a cool-looking restaurant down the street. Do you want to go have a few?"

Fang paused for a minute. "Not tonight. Lissa and I are going to go see 'Scent of a Woman.'"

"Oh."

"Is there something wrong?"

Max scowled at the phone. "Well it's just, that's the third time this week."

"So?"

"So you and I haven't spent much time together lately."

"Max, we're together almost every day."

"No I mean...we haven't spent time together….y'know…as friends…."

"Oh, well, you know, me and Lissa..."

"Yeah, I know, you and Lissa."

"She's very important to me. I'm sorry if that upsets you."

"Well, what is this? I know she had a thing for you in school…I mean, are you still gonna see her?"

"I don't know. I think so. Look, it's not interfering with the flock, is it? I mean Lissa and I see each other on our own time."

"You know that's not what this is about. Do you not need me anymore or something? 'Cause I mean, if I've been replaced I'd like to know about it."

"Max, don't be an idiot. You are not replaceable. You're just…not what I want…"

Max hung up without another word. Sure, she knew that Fang would have other relationships. But she didn't think it would be so soon. She was looking forward to having Fang all to herself for just a little while, as selfish as that was, perhaps things would evolve. Fang would feel more free, would commit himself more deeply to Max. It just seemed silly now.

She couldn't believe he had said something that he now knew was so hurtful. Max picked up the phone again, but then slowly put it back down as she realized that there was no one to call. Fang wouldn't have any time for Max now, would he?

Time passed. Max and Fang threw themselves into their mission to spread the word about Global Warming. Lissa and the Flock got farther and farther away, the the temptation started to grow…

* * *

Fang and Max were flying around in France when they suddenly realized that they had no idea where they were. They stopped off at a gas station mini-mart for a couple of drinks but when Max opened her wallet she found only a few wrinkled dollars. Fang was furious.

"You don't have any French money?! Max, I swear I'm gonna kick your butt to the other end of this highway!"

Max grinned sheepishly and pulled two quarters from her jeans pocket.

"For phone calls," she said.

Fang snatched the coins from her hand. "We can always call collect. Now, what the hell can you get for hardly any money around here..."

As if handed a divine decree, Fang walked by the freezer cabinet just as another customer was opening it. The rush of cold air in the sweltering mini-mart made Fang shiver and his breath caught in his throat. He looked to the source of this arctic chill and saw a row of ice pops with a label underneath: 49 cents.

Max came and stood by him. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Fang asked.

Max blinked. "That crappy generic Sprite in the corner there?"

Fang pulled a single ice pop from the freezer. "Sprite's only going to make us thirstier anyway." He tossed the quarters to the cashier and strolled out. Max followed closely behind. "Just one? What about me?"

"I'm a generous person." Fang stated coolly as he climbed the embankment and sat down to watch the cars go by. Max plopped down beside him and stared as Fang unwrapped the frozen treat and slid it into his mouth, leaving no doubt as to what he was simulating. When he was satisfied he held it out to Max. She licked up and down the length of the ice pop, never taking her eyes off her companion.

Fang leaned in and joined Max, their tongues met, and they savored the sweet coldness of the ice pop as well as the sugary heat of each others' mouths.

Max couldn't control the noises that surfaced in the back of her throat as one lip slid over smooth ice and the other was gently pulled between Fang's teeth.

"I missed you," Fang whispered with a eerie calm. He paused, pushed the hair back from Max's face, ran one finger over her temple.

Max's jealousy disintegrated for the meantime. They clambered over the hill, concealing themselves in a grove of lavender, and sat down and talked, afterwards staring up at the starriest evening sky they'd ever seen.

"You don't see this many stars back in Berlin," Fang remarked.

"There's a lot of things you don't get, back in Berlin," Max breathed into his ear.


	4. Don't Miss Your Flight

**A/N: sorry about the long time between updates :( I've had writers block. But my stuff on is thriving! I have the same pen name so you can check it out. Please? …please? Oh well. Whatever. And a reminder, this is the prequel to adrenaline rush. **

* * *

…**Two Years Later…**

**

* * *

  
**

Max and Fang had drifted further as well; their affections were no longer as often or as obvious, and feelings of abandonment still rattled Fang's collectiveness now and then. Those times made it easier to convince himself that he'd imagined everything, to admit his faulty logic. He'd let go. And then every few months, Max came back.

"Do you remember when I first kissed you?"

The two had jetted off for a getaway at the summer home the Flock bought from their trusty, limitless credit card. They were the only ones who had used it in a while.

They were sitting in the living room, enjoying the warm afternoon light that was shining in from the large bay window.

"Tell me about it." she continued.

"About what?"

"About that first kiss."

"It was—awkward."

Max seemed a bit insulted. "Awkward?"

"Well, yes. I wasn't exactly expecting you to kiss me."

"Oh, well," Max said, as if disregarding it. She grinned, flippantly. "But you wanted it."

"Yes." Fang's expression mirrored Max's for a split second, but then turned serious as the aching he felt intensified. He glanced teasingly up at Max, who awaited Fang's next move. Fang knew where he was going with his inquiries, and while he baulked at first, not wanting to let Max take the lead, he was entranced by the way his words could make the singer twist and moan and plead to him.

"I did want it. I wanted more."

Max smiled.

* * *

**

* * *

  
**

"Such a strange thing, though."

Hours had passed, and both were resting but hardly sleeping. And now that Max had started talking again, there would be little time for shut-eye.

"What's strange?"

"This. You know."

A lurching sensation rippled through Fang's stomach. This. Lying here. Beside each other. Whatever it was. Friendship caught up in the tangled definition of affection. _Such a strange thing.  
_  
"You know," Max was saying. "Being created by scientists, I guess."

"Oh." Fang's body relaxed, relieved. "You mean mutant?"

Max grimaced, shifting her head to the other side of the pillow. "I hate that word."

"That's what we are, though." Fang rolled onto his back, thankful to have avoided trying to figure out their relationship for one moment. He glanced at the girl beside him, whose chest rose and fell evenly.

Sighing, Max stared contemplatively upwards, not so much at the ceiling, but at the air before it. "It's almost meaningless, if you think about it. There are magazines…" He stole a look at Fang momentarily. "There are magazines that would print every word that we say like it's something really important, just because we were created in a lab."

"That's because they think we're really important."

"Hmm." Max smiled, as if keeping a secret to herself. She divulged lightly, "Most people find me rather annoying. What with my "save the world" thing…"

"I do, for one."

"You do not."

"Of course I do. And look, I still love you." Fang grinned, moving closer to fiddle with Max's light colored locks that fell over her forehead. "No one expects you to be perfect, Max."

"I know…" she sighed, defeated.

Fang paused as his fingers trailed a light line down Max's barely-freckled cheek. "Hey, Max. You all right?"

"'Course." She paused. Max stole a glimpse between the window shades, watching as the sun slowly scaled the pale morning sky. The light cast the room in long, milky-gray shadows. "I have to go to D.C. today."

"Again?" Fang propped himself up with a bent elbow. "Max, we have a speech to finish, remember? And then there's that parent/guardian thing at Angel and Gazzy's school…"

"It's just some conference thing. And Iggy knows what he's doing with those. Nudge, too."

"But we might need you for something."

Max smiled, leaning in to place a light kiss on Fang's cheek. "You can take my part, love."

"Max. That's not the point. You promised."

"It's not my fault, Fang. I can't help it when Washington schedules these meetings. I can't ask them to hold off a vote for global warming awareness because I have to go to Angel and Gazzy's conference thing."

Fang rolled off the bed, shucking on his shirt that he retrieved from over a chair. A sickening feeling seized his stomach. What he wanted was not shallow fulfillment of a lust, which would only leave his soul barren. There had to be more to it. But Max had yet to confess anything to him since that first true time, two years ago, when he himself had laid frozen in shock at the immensity of the moment. Perhaps they'd missed their opportunity.

"Fang? Hey, where are you going? What? Wait--It's—it's not even six, yet!"

The quietist member of the Flock slung on his coat, the car keys jangling harshly in his pocket. "Don't miss your flight, Max."


End file.
